Friday, March 30, 2012

The sign was not there and then it was there when did it never mind that's the problem maybe now it is gone again where did it go did they ever put a sign there it is again the sign the sign covered in what the rain brought down or splashed up from the street the streets connected wired into so many other streets perpendicular acute and obtuse as the what happened is here again to stay as long as the broken collar shock collar brushing the dandruff of melancholy from the shoulders surrounding the same confused mind lost never mind that's the problem now it is gone again where did it go did they ever put a sign there it is again the sign the sign covered in what the rain brought down or splashed up from the street in green and brown and brown and green and darker green and yellow brown and darker or lighter hues of what would that be brought down by the rain or splashed up from the street as the rain washes a tad off as well as splashing up more to cover and darken as observed by one of them joined by another and they make their way who's way is it really what had they agreed to as they made up some way up the high rise.

They did it by moving inside to the elevator which had an attendant. Neither of them could make out what kind of an accent he spoke with. After he rolled his eyes when they told him what floor they were going to he mentioned his once being a poet. She asked him to remember a poem that he had written. He tried to discourage her from stirring anything up now that they were inside and soaked and needed to dry from what they, too, had been splashed with outside.

"Don't make the man go back. Not now. Don't bring it back to now," exhaled Balforceps with trailing wheezes.

"Just because you listen to your dismal music too loud so that it reverberates in every one of your social encounters doesn't mean you have to project the same horseshit on to everybody else," punctuated Tralissa without a stammer except maybe a quieter after comment like "yeah" or "there."

"No, no, don't fight," said the elevator attendant pushing on the stale air in the elevator with his free hand.

"See, you're triggering some old conflicts he probably just barely survived. Just great. Now how are we going to settle this devastated man down?" questioned Balforceps shaking his cup of coffee with a sneeze.

"I'm sorry we carried on like this," apologized Tralissa.

"We carry something each of us," responded the elevator attendant.

"Yes. Some primordial residue we burn with our inner spark to fuel us on," Tralissa offered with the image of her favorite self-help book blown out of her hands by a sudden crosswind while she lounged in the backseat of her friend's convertible as they drove that time through the desert over that really tall bridge what a long way down into the shadowy canyon it went.

"No, no. I was going to say we carry the illness of life and spread it back and forth to each other so we never get over it. I don't like the sound," insisted the elevator attendant.

"Of dismal things, art, music, you mean?" probed Tralissa with her whatever metaphorical thing that gave some impression of being like a probe probing for something other than whatever.

"No, no. I like dismal music. I could probably talk to your friend for hours," replied the elevator attendant trying to belch as non-explosively as was scientifically possibly.

"Oh, great," muttered Tralissa rolling her eyes.

"No, no. That. That there. That's what I don't like. The sound people make when I tell them my dislike for what are they called the little red boxes they use on your chest my chest and they say clear clear for them they think they make space for me but it's a space for them so they don't don't have to get on them what's going back into me so they can have another warm body to attend another spot because they don't want to listen to me wanting to give up and they want me to let go of all the things they don't want to hear but I can't give up because they need someone to keep showing up so they can go down and up and down," said the elevator attendant looking at the walls of the elevator car and Tralissa's face to see if he got any of his spit on them or her or her.

The elevator shook to a stop as the attendant turned the crank. Tralissa moved towards the door and then smacked the sides of her raincoat when the door did not yet open.

"Finally," Tralissa spluttered.

The attendant gripped the crank and paused. Balforceps widened his eyes.

"I think I remember one of my poems," remarked the elevator attendant.

"You're not being very polite, Tralissa," observed Balforceps as he reminisced about several of his most recent insults especially about the one involving comparisons between openness and bodily orifices. Shouldn't have put so much in to it never wanted the help they said so themselves. It couldn't be helped.

"Let's just go to the shitty assed fucking meeting room. No offense. Have a nice day." Tralissa growled.

As the two of them exited the elevator, the attendant quickly closed the door behind them muttering, "Since when is finally?"

The two of them stood by the closed elevator door looking down into the long narrow dark corridor. The length and dimensions expanded with the deepening of their symptoms. He took another sip of his coffee.

Tralissa asked, "What was the number again?"

"I don't know. He just said it was the door at the very end," responded Balforceps as he closed his eyes to the fading screeches of strings at the inconclusive conclusion of some chamber piece almost ending almost stepped on that dark piece of shit there's a piece of shit in the hallway prompting him to start walking ahead of her.

"What is that horrid smell?" Tralissa gagged.

"More of that horseshit being projected about, I guess."

"I'm keeping up with you away from it. Hopefully, it'll be less noticeable down the hall."

"Less noticeable. Why is there a hatchet sticking out of the couch? What I've noticed is that if you show any signs that you might be getting over a flu people take it as their cue to unload their complaints on you as if that's the tempo of recovery and haven't even gotten out of the mucus covered woods yet," Balforceps commented as he approached the stained door at the end of the long narrow dark narrow corridor long dark corridor.

"Drinking that swill won't help you get better. You shouldn't have even agreed to come. He's not even here yet. Maybe he won't show up. I heard most of those invited were sick as well. What's in the couch? Invitations finding all that uneaten food between underneath the cushions. The conversations the laughing the body aches I think I'm coming down with what everybody has. Need to trim my toenails damn it."

Sliding down in front of the door, Balforceps sits and coughs into the inside of his left elbow. He takes another sip. He shivers.

"Sit down," he offers patting the floor.

"Are you sure you want to touch the floor?"

"The rain washes it off and splashes it back on and washes it off and splashes it back on," he uttered haltingly as another cough and shiver went through him.

"You should go. You are not well."

"I should stay so I could spread the good news about sickness and give him a taste of it. But, that would only succeed in making him more unavailable. He's so impervious to all that gets spread around, all the harsh words the collisions of earth."

"See that's the crux of your problem. He's got the vision and you've got the meat grinder grinding up anything that has any meaning."

"Vision's been my problem since I started squinting in that stark ugly classroom. They must have knocked it out of me after each hit in the back of the head and they would taunt me with guessing who it was that time. I think that's why I couldn't care less about remembering people's names. The only kid who she didn't take her she didn't stay in our town very long forgotten her name went along with the attendance list too bad that was I think it was before the streets and everything was connected and there were whole ways of dirt leading down to I think it was a forest or the ocean no no it was just a fen," he trailed off with another wheeze and hacking cough.

"You should go."

"He might show up."

"At this point I'd hate to think what it would be like if he did show up and take his place and the stages and the roles."

"Now what kind of attitude is that?"

"What difference does attitude make now when now is so full of what's happened and it's now for as long as I don't know like trying to play a harp covered in some kind of insect. You pick you're good at that."

"I had a feverish nightmare similar to that last night now that you bring it up where I'm trying to kill these bugs I can't describe them they just keep getting bigger and longer and the only way I try to kill them is by holding them down with both my feet and strangle them with one hand don't remember which while I use the other to apply all the pressure I can with a big enough pot lid as the head flies off and astonishingly nothing sprays out like I was expecting. I start my morning sickly with the darkness about me taking its time to dissolve the images of decapitated bugs and pots and lids hanging like some mocking constellation over my sweaty face trying not to swallow what's collected in my throat."

"I'm not a big fan of doing the dishes."

"There will always be dirty laundry."

"Oh, shit. I think I just heard the elevator coming back up."

"I think my fever is spiking again."

"You didn't have to do this in your condition."

"Condition? My condition leaves me contemplating knocking on any one of these other doors to borrow their bathroom for a window to jump out of or self-examination of how I should have tried harder and stuck with stuff more stuck to it more should stay more stuck to the canvas to let another thumb smudge me into whatever texture they're trying to shape this horseshit into," he muttered as he coughed took a sip of his coffee that was losing its warmth as another shiver went through his body inside his soaked clothes inside his drenched raincoat.

What happened is here again to stay as long as the broken collar shock collar brushing the dandruff of melancholy from the shoulders surrounding the same confused mind lost never mind that's the problem now it is gone again where did it go did they ever put a sign there it is again the sign the sign covered in what the rain brought down or splashed up from the street in green and brown and brown and green and darker green and yellow brown and darker or lighter hues of what would that be brought down by the rain or splashed up from the street as the rain washes a tad off as well as splashing up more to cover and darken as observed by one of them joined by another and they make their way who's way is it really what had they agreed to?

Monday, March 26, 2012

Bloodshot eyes squinted as knees bent as the bug slipped its flatbed under the microwave. As for coverage as for cover as for not being able to reach much else lately the coffee mug was under pressure as its top capping things off breathed like an ill dog as its dying lungs took it and three working, if you can actually describe it in that way, legs for another reheating that would have its fade its moment evaporate into the dust of existence.

Within maybe is that where it is emerging towards toward up the ladder somewhere in the garage that corner of the garage by the table covered maybe within maybe is that where it is emerging towards toward up the ladder somewhere in the garage that corner of the garage by the table covered as for coverage as for cover not being able to reach much else lately much else service for a waistband for a threading of some of this here has been dumped out back for waiting for those to call them don’t know who to call not OK apparently not to know how to go about it funny thing once did.

Meanwhile back to the bug bump on the back of the bump big bump how long has that been there not OK apparently not to know how to go about it funny thing once did. Only just now putting some things together leaves dead leaves together with yellow fingers together in a pile putting things some things together for picking up sorting away disposing of it before the wind in the wind when is where it will whip around from the back of the bump big bump how long has that been there not OK apparently not to know how to go about it funny thing once did.

Meanwhile back to the bump backed up the toilet has been backed up where is the broken suction with the duct tape to provide more suction provide now there’s a sound of an image taking all other images with it as the bug slips its flatbed under the microwave provided that provide now there was a sound replaced by silence replaced by shit festering somehow does something to silence call it looking why call anything anything?

Meanwhile back to the backed up toilet backed up tobacco caking up the pipe tailpipe fucked by weeds the interior has been ripped out of the skeleton of it yards away fields away deserted deserts away impaled by the earth as for silence as for the soundtrack of the breeze sliding through its remains advertising some kind of return as it could be called and is called return to whatever it’s called stop calling why call anything anything?

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

The smacking of wooden legs under a sluggish TV tray table. Teeth chatter in between closed lips around the most recent impact crater puckering over an emptiness. She worked a piece of french fry out from beneath the alt key and stopped her humming interrupted by a conversation sliced into thirds or fourths or fifths is that a french fry was it chicken was it who said that part who took part who took it apart they both did hadn't they agreed to take it apart leave it apart just find another puzzle another box just leave it.

It's ending it's ended it hasn't ended anything beginning something else fucking new beginnings continuing to be continued to be announced lift this left or right thigh to make an announcement no one to hear it except those thighs down there while up above by the closed lips thoughts manage to leak coming out of nowhere out of nowhere arrest that man that dark silhouette who turned the Sun on the front of that while all along can't keep eyes pulled down to keep a lid on it two lids on it many lids refusing deliberately forgetting to hit the on button and wait till the screen goes blank and then and then it hasn't ended anything beginning something else fucking new beginnings continuing to be continued to be announced lift this left or right thigh to make an announcement no one to hear it except those thighs down there while above by the closed lips thoughts manage to leak coming out of nowhere out of nowhere the screen is blank and it hasn't ended it's just surrounded by buttons keys to nothing stuffed with bits of french fry or chicken maybe chicken maybe not even food at the foot of nothing at the foot.

Without knocking an entrance after knock after knock against it before the entrance don't knock it the wood makes noise as it swings open wood turning on its hinges metal hinges wood lumbering over the threshold is what drew her eyes to her front door.

Paylton: Sure, enter without knocking.BB: The bus is coming. You're going to miss seeing them off.Paylton: I get plenty of other opportunities for seeing them off and they're off a lot more now. BB: Just wanted you to get in at the last moment.Paylton: There'll be another last moment tomorrow or when they get back later today. All those last moments getting on and getting off. So many trains.BB: Trains?Paylton: So many trains of thought getting derailed by getting off. Switching from one line to the next line to the next line. BB: What are you working on?Paylton: What not.BB: What not?Paylton: What not to what not to what not to -BB: Spit it out.Paylton: What not to repeat.BB: It's a little late for that.Paylton: What's that?BB: It's a little late for that.Paylton: Just in time.BB: Barely.Paylton: In time. To the beat to the pattern.BB: What pattern?Paylton: Boy girl boy.BB: Like that?Paylton: How about: girl boy girl? Or girl girl boy. Duck duck goose. Something in his hair. Bald spot already a bald spot on the top of the back of her head white hair red eyes daytime nighttime lights on lights off better off in the dark to glow with those eyes and hair bald spot already right on the top of the back of her head didn't notice that until duck duck goose better off under the blanketing of an overcast day lurking under the clouds like a jellyfish. Spit it out. A drip for a drip. BB: There's a buzzing.Paylton: The one in the kitchen or in your skull?BB: The one in my skull. No, the one in the kitchen if that's where it's coming from.Paylton: The wall by the toaster buzzes when the dryer four houses six houses down is doing an extra load of their denim or something. They have an uncle or brother-in-law staying with them who talks about nothing but chess variations and salami.BB: Found that out did you?Paylton: Out at the mailboxes. It was unavoidable.BB: Salami, eh?Paylton: Do anything for you?BB: I can actually smell it.Paylton: That's either the rug by the sliding door or the lentils I had last night three days ago.BB: The rug by the sliding door?Paylton: From the rain. BB: You have a leak?Paylton: I couldn't find any. Drips from the sky and repulses the senses clever enough to make its way in. The hairbrush doesn't get all the way to the bottom of it the bottom of the frayed hair splitting into the next conversation in the head.BB: Did I tell you about the kid who thinks they're growing nose hair on their arms?Paylton: One of the kids at the bus stop?BB: Nose hair at the elbows. Curious.Paylton: A duck or a goose?BB: More like backyard waterfowl. That drilling has to be coming from the bedroom.Paylton: Bathroom. That would be the carpenter putting in the shelving over the commode. Specializes in entertainment centers and checker patterns.BB: Position play with chess variations after all?Paylton: Still don't know for sure. Couldn't stay with the jellyfish there had to be hundreds of eyes two eyes four eyes scraped chin split chin talking to yourself listening to interrupting invitations to drip for a drip. BB: At the elbow. Paylton: What's that?BB: You derive pleasure from having me repeat myself. I'm talking to you yes you the one with the ears.Paylton: Paper stars.BB: If you want to be in this round you're going to get hurt.Paylton: Full beer bottle to the vertex.BB: The last carpenter took a stack of CDs.Paylton: Not the orchestral stuff?BB: No. Had to make it personal and go for the string quartets about a foot and a half of plastic cases. The bastard excuse me cunt the no good cunt. Paylton: Too bad your housemate left.BB: It makes no difference. Before they left towels and underwear underwear gone. Two of us three eight all of us more gone. Paylton: Take this for what you will, it's actually quite funny, somewhat funny.BB: Somewhat funny?Paylton: No, it wasn't. It wasn't funny. It's a toss up between hilarity and yawning.

Paper starsfolded intotake awayfrom can't put itabout a broken plate

that's take awaythe dash between things

Paper starsfolded intotake awayfrom can't put itabout a broken plate

that makes itinto the paperpaper starswith more holes around the centercrumpled center

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Door rolled up into the mirror of the window's glass reflecting on the mountains towering over the balding scalp sloping away as it is approached curving away along the road the road curving away and around the mountains cold with disappearing sun and night overflowing its bucket mop of a mind twisted twisting out the filth of filthy water must be rain coming no it isn't not yet never not yet not soon not even soon.

It was what she said when she said it when she was what she said it was what it was when it was then when she was then that it probably overlooked her as it so happens hapless and idiotic overlooking her taking her for granted granting her almost very little almost night night overflowing its bucket mop of a mind twisted twisting out the filth of filthy water must be rain coming not it isn't not yet never not yet not soon not even soon.

Time and a chance not a chance only chance it is it was what she said when she said it when she was what she said it was what it was when it was then when she was then that it probably overlooked her as it so happens hapless and idiotic overlooking her taking her for granted granting her almost very little almost night another night that drags on into morning shoved away from legs scratched at by resentful mouthings filled more with the taste of cigars than the bitterness of emptied something something tightening knuckles that can't grind the teeth some more and it's still not there not still not still not there or there probably overlooked her for the last time and the last time was longer into the past than the next page retreating into the next behind the next behind the next in back of the back.

They took the speakers and left naked wires clinging to the rug stained with the usual spillage and waste of incompletion always another incompletion for her as her looking back looking at her with chins cleft by double messages doubling into later hours darker hours doubling and towing her along the bed her side of the bed her side of the tank filled with the black ink from the mop slapping the filthy water in the mountain's bucket her side of the mountain where blades slash at the impervious sky sealed shut with the red eyes of light conveying people late for another time they will wish they hadn't been born for but it's too late for that pregnant with the too late as they crash down miles of the night into the oncoming light of the next day and the one behind and the one behind that on the back of the back of them all.

She: When?He: Are you?She: Going to respond?He: To the outside?She: Stop the inside?He: She:

She looked askance at the eyesthat looked askance at she looking askance across theplain plains not a look for looking back atback atat

They took the speakers and left naked wires clinging to the rug stained with the usual spillage and waste of incompletion always another incompletion for her as her looking back looking at her with chins cleft by double messages tonguing their way through the walls of the speakers they took and the naked wires clinging to the rug stained with the usual spillage and waste of incompletion always another incompletion for her wire trigger hairs between legs scratched at by resentful mouthings filled more with the taste of cigars than the bitterness of emptied something something tightening knuckles that can't grind the teeth some more and it's still not there not still not still not there or there probably overlooked her for the last time and the last time was longer into the past than the next page retreating into the next behind the next behind the next in back of the back back to another incompletion for her wire trigger hairs between legs scratched at by resentful mouthings filled more with the taste of cigars smoked behind smoke rising from another incompletion clinging to her wire trigger hairs between legs scratched at by resentful mouthings lips moving in time with meaningless repetition in time for a chance not a chance only chance at the stroke of another stroke zippers opening around crumpled and trampled roots of triggers hair triggers what a stroke in time the last time lasting as long as it withholds assaulting the remembrance the last time that has dried into the desert that surrounds the road curving away and around the mountain towering over the balding scalp and its sweat repulsing fingers knuckles tightening this time the last time for a chance not a chance only chance at the stroke of another stroke zippers opening around crumpled and trampled roots of triggers hair triggers what a stroke in time the last time opening upon sundered holes looking down at luck not worth a stroke.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Disorder it was another disorder group of disorders gathering grouping into more groups around hanging around the yard around the house hanging around grouping into grouped groups of disorders spreading disorder ordering each other around around the yard around the house what disorder what was that what disorder ordering each other around and coming around again again for another feeding frenzy and its alternating feed alternating one frenzy for another that's the results or means or ways or objectives or goals or ways alternating ways of feeding of frenzy sending in an individual lone disorder all alone to break and enter with that individualized personalized touch for the touchy feely trepidating lot around the lot around the yard around the house as signs and symptoms of an outbreak of bedlam to ensue not going out today with a threat of bedlam on the horizon of the window blinds that's what bed is for.

"I'm getting up. Sleep your life away. You're too lazy even to be a minion."

How striking as her words are dispossessed of their usual tone of squeezing a life a body out of the toothpaste tube and onto the next brushstroke of a stereotypical day. And away we go! To the floor what progress getting down to it to her she found it out got a life a body squeezed a blap out of the toothpaste tube and onto the floor even by not directly referring to it that's the game now the name game now or lack thereof there is a lot of that a lot of lack around the lot around the yard around the house today the next brushstroke of a stereotypical day with a threat of bedlam on the horizon of the window blinds that's what bed is for squeezed out of the toothpaste tube onto the floor she got a life a body she gets a kick out of it another name out of it out of bed an understudy for a minion pulling cat fur off the lower lip pulling very little off with the next brushstroke of a stereotypical day.

"Don't think you can thumb for a lift when you've had it up your ass."

Where is death's sting to take the dull ache of life away? Someone got their footing for sure sure footing sure cracked a rib possibly sure about that sure footing cracking a rib possibly all things are possible when it comes to violence. Death's nighty night is put off as what is rank and ranks below the below average minion lies in a fetal position covered with schmutz. Climbing up to the next dead end has been replaced by lowering one's self. Scribbling in the carpet underneath between the leftovers left over who knows how long oozing with words coming out like covetous grubs in the hollowed out family tree what a reunion the gathering of disorders ordering each other around this is our lot around the lot around the yard around the house with the threat a threat of bedlam on the horizon of the window blinds that's what bed is for squeezed out of the toothpaste tube onto the floor she got a life a body she gets a kick out of it another name out of it that's the thing of it that's the thing with anonymity you have to stay true to the name of it out of it out of bed an understudy for a minion pulling cat fur off the lower lip pulling very little off with the next brushstroke of a stereotypical day this is the day that they have made as their books get thicker and minds get flatter as their dicks get harder and vaginas get bloodier. Just scribbling in the carpet underneath between the leftovers left over who knows how long oozing with words coming out like covetous grubs in the hollowed out family tree reeking with metaphors painted by smelly hands crawling out from the crack of the world.

"I'm dead serious. Men deserve a good ribbing."

She gets a kick out of it side-splitting humor splitting hairs hair pulling trying to get her footing as she is dragged along to somewhere else as her thoughts smack into each other on the wall on the inside of her once flowing head of hair struggling to get out to be somewhere else other than the somewhere else she is dragged along to to wait her thoughts wait between locked doors made to wait made to order as it gets it together gathering together for another get together ordering each other around what order what was that what order smacks of order her eyes blink quickly as the whole thing smacks of boots and fists gathering together to gather her thoughts together in a pile made to wait made to order between locked doors between men over and under inflated.

"Get out."

"To get some coffee you mean. That's what you mean. That's what I mean. What else is there when one needs to move? Did you ever hear the one about the group of four adolescents who ended up in the stocks while exploring some family history in a remote and abandoned town? No? Anyway, one of the teens starts recalling an incident to the other three that had to do with this guy she used to date regarding what happened to her in this storm drain and how they had gotten caught in a flash flood and only she survived after he had asked her to go with him be with him people and their meaning people who ask and people who go people who get washed away and people who keep their head above the flood waters while the rest of their body and the rest of the people and the rest of their meaning. Forgetfulness is an interlude that wants to be longer each time the message scrambles desperately to rescue what's left on the molding loaf of bread."

It's here to stay. It has to be. They have made this day with their preservatives preserving and protecting from not wanting. All she gets is a kick out of it a calendar out of it scratching out days as more lurk underneath for the looming rash of making her mark with the marks made on her made to wait made to order what order what was that what order ordering each other around smacks of order her eyes blink quickly as the whole thing smacks of boots and fists gathering together to gather her thoughts together in a pile surrounded by stars gathering to set them ablaze as her eyes blink quickly as the whole thing smacks as her eyes squint tightly within the wisps of hair of smoke disappearing into the crack of the world.